


Imposter

by Romiress



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Crack, First Time, M/M, Self-cest, Sex Toys, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 07:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20042500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress
Summary: Jason finds someone unexpected in his office.---Written for the Jay x Jay challenge on Tumblr.





	Imposter

Jason knows someone's in his office who shouldn't be before he even opens the door. It's the little things. His chair's normally visible through the little glass window in his door, only someone's moved it back a foot so that it isn't. The computer on his desk isn't throwing any light either, which is wrong, because he's got a very particular screensaver that  _ should _ be doing just that. Someone's turned the monitor off.

Which means  _ someone _ is lurking in his office. Probably in his chair. It's his old MO, so it's something he's  _ very _ familiar with. He knows like... ten ways to avoid the situation entirely.

He walks right in anyway. He's not  _ supposed _ to be Robin or Red Hood or Wingman or any of the half dozen other names he's used. He's supposed to be Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne's long-thought-dead ward. He's supposed to be a normal man with normal capabilities, and if someone's set things up the way he thinks, that means they're there to threaten him or intimidate him. Maybe shake him down for information.

He's not in any  _ immediate _ danger.

So there's merit in doing what he does, walking in like he owns the place (because he does). It makes him look stupid and oblivious. Like he hasn't even considered that someone might have broken in. Like his brain isn't running a mile a minute, working out what's going to happen before it can play out so that he's ready.

Doesn't hurt that his suit's got kevlar weaved into the vest, or that he's got a discrete gun hidden against the small of his back.

The door clicks shut behind him, and he makes it to the center of the room before his guest flicks the light on. Jason plays the part, letting out a yelp of surprise as his head whips up to look at them.

They are, in fact, sitting in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

They are also, to his  _ intense annoyance, _ wearing his fucking suit. Not his civilian clothes. No no. They're wearing an exact copy of his old Red Hood gear. Same leather jacket. Same featureless red mask.

It takes every bit of self control he has to not laugh in their face, and he knows that if they try and play it like they're the  _ real _ Red Hood, he's not going to have enough.

Only they haven't moved at all. They're just staring at him, impossible to read behind the mask, and Jason pauses for a moment before squinting.

"So who the hell are you supposed to be," he says. "Red Hood?"

There's just a moment, enough to take a single deep breath, and then the man behind his desk reaches up and pulls the helmet off.

Even with the domino, there's no mistaking it: It's not an imposter, it's  _ himself. _ Younger by a bit, but still him.

"Well," Jason says, "one of us is going to have to change."

Hood snorts at that, and Jason turns away, pulling the blinds on his office as he hides them away.

"You don't seem that bothered by this," Hood says.

"It happens," Jason says. "Dimensions cross, timelines flip back on themselves... you get used to it. The fact that you're not really seals the deal for me, because eventually it becomes downright mundane."

Jason flops down into the chair across the desk from Hood, kicking his own feet up on the desk as he gives him an appraising look. Young. Probably not back in Gotham all that long. If he's guessing right, he's right in the midst of his days running Gotham's underground, meaning he hasn't yet figured out... well, a lot.

Perfect.

"So," he says. "This is my office with my stuff and  _ my _ desk, so I think it's safe to say we know which of the two of us is out of place."

"How exactly am I supposed to get back?" Hood asks. "Because I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be shaking down Cobblepot."

"It'll unstick on its own," Jason says with a wave of his hand. "Just give it a bit. Most of the time it course-corrects naturally."

"You're really just... what, fine with this?" Hood asks. "This just happens so often you don't even bat an eye?"

"I do not have enough fingers to count all the weird dimensional and timeline stuff that's happened to me," he says. "And I figure we should make the best of it, rather than panicking about you being here."

"You're... what, going to give me spoilers?" Hood asks, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me what to expect?"

"No," Jason says. "I'm going to give you  _ advice.  _ Advice you need to hear now, rather than having to figure it out for yourself years down the line."

Hood pulls his feet off the desk, sitting up straight for only a moment before he hunches forward, leaning in to hear what Jason has to say. Jason mirrors the gesture, leaning over the desk.

He's pretty sure he's not supposed to tell the kid anything, but he already knows he's going to end up running the Iceberg Lounge instead of Penguin, so he figures stuff's already fucked anyway. Of all the things he could tell him, this is probably simultaneously the most important, and the least likely to destroy the universe or anything like that.

"You're bisexual," Jason says as solemnly as he can manage.

Hood recoils.

"I'm no-" He starts, and Jason simply cuts him off.

"You absolutely fucking are. You like dick, you like getting fucked, you like men. Doesn't mean a damn thing about you, but you are. Getting absolutely  _ plowed _ is one of the best feelings in the world."

Jason leans over the desk, pulling open a drawer and digging around until he has a business card. It's got a fake name on it, but the address is still real, and he's pretty sure it was still a safehouse even back in Hood's day.

"You take this," he says, slipping the card into the inner pocket of Hood's jacket. "You go in civilian clothes. You tell him about this, and about the fact that he's the best damn fuck I've ever had, and he'll show you things you cannot  _ imagine." _

"Are you  _ setting me up with your fuckbuddy?"  _ Hood asks. He sounds absolutely horrified.

"Sure am," Jason says, grinning down at him. "My life would have been a lot better if I'd stopped repressing myself years before I actually did. Sexual frustration is a hell of a thing."

Hood's going red enough to match his domino mask, and Jason takes that as his cue to reach down, grabbing the front of his jacket and hauling him forward to mash their mouths together. There's nothing nice or soft about it, just lips on lips and teeth on teeth. It's a hard, demanding thing, kissing like their lives depend on it, and for all Hood's objections, he kisses right back.

"That's what I thought," Jason says when he pulls back, licking at his lips. "You going to let me show you just how nice it feels?"

"Hell," Hood says, although he doesn't sound half as arrogant as he did only a few minutes ago. "Isn't this kind of fucked up?"

"The way I see it," Jason says, "you stop worrying about what is or isn't fucked up the moment you crawl out of your own grave. After that, it's a bit of a get-out-of-hell-free card, isn't it?"

"No," Hood says. "It definitely is not."

"Maybe not for  _ you,"  _ Jason says. "Now turn around and bend over the desk."

"What if I want to fuck  _ you?" _ Hood says, making no move to do anything of the sort.

"Too bad," Jason says. "This is about you learning to use your ass, not about you learning to use other peoples."

"I didn't sign up for this."

"I mean," Jason says, "we're the same person. So I'm signing your permission slip for you."

He pulls Hood in for another rough kiss, and seals the deal by pressing his hand against Hood's cup. That little bit of friction is enough to make the younger man's breath hitch, and Jason grins down at him.

"Flip," he says. "And then you'll have a really good time."

Hood does  _ not _ look terribly enthusiastic about the whole prospect, but he finally does flip over. Jason grabs the back of his neck, pressing him forward until his chest hits the desk, and he leaves his hand there, keeping him in place as the other pulls his pants down.

"This is so fucked up," Hood says, but it seems more like something he's saying to himself than something he's actually saying to Jason, so he doesn't answer.

Instead, he slaps Hood's ass, making him jump.

"Spanking?" Hood hisses. "Really?"

"You fucking love it," Jason says, because he  _ does. _ "Remember that card? He's great with it. He'll just put you over his lap like you don't weigh a damn thing."

He reaches around Hood's hip, pulling his underwear down and the cup away.

He's really not surprised to find that Hood's already hard, straining against the cup.

No, he's not surprised at all.

That said, he  _ is _ realistic about this sort of thing. He can't just fuck him and let him have a fun time. No, that'd take too goddamn long, and he's not all that good at it anyway. So instead he settles for reaching over, pulling open another drawer and reaching inside to release the hidden compartment there.

Most would use it for a gun.

Jason keeps his guns on him, so the only thing in the drawer are what he needs to keep himself busy during a particularly slow period at work.

Hood can't see what he's doing, but he tries to twist his head around anyway. Jason presses down on his neck again, keeping him from moving too far.

"Don't scratch my desk," Jason says as he uses his free hand to uncap the bottle of lube, pouring a healthy amount down Hood's ass. It's cold, and he watches his entire body twitch in response, recoiling from the temperature as much as the sensation.

He's never had quite such a good look at his own ass, but he sees why people like it.

"You're enjoying this," Hood says, and Jason laughs in response.

"Sure am," he says. He drags his fingers across Hood's puckered little hole, watching him as he jumps with every slight touch. He's got absolutely  _ zero _ experience, which means Jason has to be nice and careful as he rubs his fingers up against it.

"Feels weird," Hood hisses through gritted teeth.

"It does," Jason says. "It'll feel weird for the first bit. Then you'll like it. Then you'll be goddamn  _ dying _ for it." 

Hood opens his mouth—probably to say something like  _ I'm not you— _ and then closes it again, apparently realizing that whatever he's going to say is going to just fall on deaf ears. Jason rewards his show of restraint by pressing a finger finger in, watching the muscles in Hood's bare lower back flex and clench in response.

"Weird," Hood hisses at him again.

"Stop being a baby," Jason says. "Jesus, you complain a lot."

"Sorry, it's just not every day that I have  _ some asshole sticking his finger up my ass,"  _ Hood snaps.

"That asshole is  _ you,"  _ Jason says, slipping in past the knuckle. "And he knows exactly what it is you need."

He's always had a hard time hitting his own prostate, but with the added angle he can  _ just _ manage to brush it. Hood jumps, chest slapping against the desk, and lets out a  _ wheeze _ in response. He can't quite seem to manage an actual word.

"Good," Jason says. "Just like that."

He presses in a second finger.

It's slower than he'd like, but he can't risk Hood lifting himself out of position automatically, so his hand had to stay on his neck. That means he's only got one hand to manage his ass, and  _ that _ means he has to go nice and slow as he works his fingers in and out of Hood, scissoring his fingers as he goes.

"You going to stay still if I pull them out?" Jason asks. Hood's only really managed to make breathy little gasps since he first brushed his prostate, but he does manage a quick nod of his head, and Jason lets go.

He retrieves his toy from the drawer with one hand, and applies another liberal helping of lube to the crack of Jason's ass before dragging his fingers through the new lube and using them to lube up the toy.

"What - what the hell are you doing back there?" Hood says.

"If I was an idiot," Jason says, "probably lubing up my dick. But I'm a bit too big for that to be enjoyable, and this is about you having a nice, positive first experience. So you're getting what I get when I'm treating myself, rather than when I'm pushing myself to take something even bigger."

He presses the head of the wand against Hood's hole, rubbing just a bit so he can get a feel for it. It's not very large—the stem's around the same size as two of his fingers—but the head's a little bit of a stretch as he finally pushes it in.

"Fuck," Hood hisses, clenching his teeth.

"I put this inside me... pretty much every day. Guide it to just the right place and it sends me to heaven while I jerk myself off. Not as good as the real thing, but it certainly makes do, doesn't it?"

"Wouldn't know," Hood says.

Jason's careful as he nudges the wand farther in, watching Hood for signs of pain. He realizes he probably should have pulled the domino off, but it's a little bit too late for that, and both his hands are occupied. One's keeping him nicely spread, and the other's working the wand inside him inch by inch until he finds  _ just _ the right place and Hood jumps.

Jason's hand darts up to press flat against Hood's back, pressing him down.

"Don't move," he says. "You don't want to be waddling around with a prostate massager sticking out of your ass."

"Go fuck yo-" Hood starts, before scowling at him, realizing that it's  _ exactly _ what he's already doing.

He keeps his hand flat on Hood's back, nudging the bulbous tip of the wand into his prostate, and only once he has a good idea of where it is does he flick it on.

The wand starts to vibrate and Hood  _ bucks. _ Jason knows from experience he's seeing stars, and he uses his own bulk to keep Hood on the desk, reaching around with his now free hand to grab at his cock, starting to jerk him off with slow, lazy strokes.

That's really all he needs. In less than two minutes, Hood's coming with a howl, splattering the side of the desk with his cum. Jason kills the vibration but finishes milking Hood with his hand, wringing the last few drops from him as he lets out a desperate sob against the desk.

"Good," Jason says, "right?"

Hood can't manage an actual response. Jason  _ knows _ how pent up he was back at that point, and he can't imagine what an orgasm like that must have done to his poor brain.

He's careful as he eases the wand out of him, grabbing tissues and starting to clean him up. Hood more or less just lays there and lets him do his work, and Jason has to physically pull him upright when he's done, helping Hood hike his pants back up.

"See?" He says. "Great."

Hood grunts at him.

"Just remember the card," Jason says, patting Hood's chest just above where the card sits. "It's important."

"I get it," Hood says. "Now how do I get home, now that you're done fucking around with my ass?"

Jason offers a shrug.

"Do whatever you did to get here in the first place," he says. "Retrace your steps and you'll probably stumble back to where you came from."

"Assuming I  _ can _ retrace my steps," Hood mutters bitterly.

"Oh, stop whining you big baby," Jason says with a laugh. "You should  _ see _ the dicks you'll eventually take. That was nothing."

He waves the wand in Hood's direction to emphasize his point, and Hood wrinkles his nose in response.

"Put that away," he says. "You're enjoying this too much."

Jason  _ is  _ enjoying the whole thing a lot, so he simply grins.

"I'll keep the card in mind," Hood says. "But I'm not promising anything."

Considering how Hood's legs are wobbling, Jason's pretty sure he'll look them up in the end. He knows  _ he _ would, anyway.

Hood excuses himself, pulling the helmet on as he heads to the door. It's bizarre to watch, because he watches Red Hood leave through the door, but he somehow never makes it past the window a foot to the left.

Jason's pretty sure he'll get home eventually. He's certainly not going to stress over it.

Not when he's got security footage to enjoy.


End file.
